


this chaos, that feeling

by Ejunkiet



Category: The Wayhaven Chronicles (Interactive Fiction)
Genre: F/F, In vino veritas!, an early birthday gift (to myself), based off of real life experiences? perhaps..., birthday parties and autumn colours, first dates and gentle conversation, fluffy feelings and miscommunication, soft kisses and soul searching, this is uh very fluffy. very different from my usual.
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-30
Updated: 2020-11-08
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:48:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,924
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26735392
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ejunkiet/pseuds/Ejunkiet
Summary: Ava du Mortain is madly, repressively in love with the detective.--She takes Elizabeth's face between her hands, watching for any indication that her touch is unwanted, a small part of her easing when the detective leans into the touch.The words escape her, quietly. “I always want you.”
Relationships: Female Detective/Ava du Mortain
Comments: 21
Kudos: 65





	1. this chaos, that feeling (ava)

**Author's Note:**

> A series exploring the developing relationship between Ava du Mortain and Elizabeth Quail.
> 
>  **one:** Elizabeth Quail invites Unit Bravo to join her in celebrating her 29th birthday.  
>  **two:** Ava invites Elizabeth on a breakfast date.

The night starts like this: Elizabeth Quail, detective with the Wayhaven PD, balanced precariously on a table in the private room she'd booked for the evening, a drink in each hand as she gestures at the small crowd of faces around her.

"I'd like to thank you all for coming," she begins, wobbling unsteadily on her feet for one long, heart-stopping moment that almost has Ava lurching across the room before Felix reaches out to stabilise her. "And know that I love you, all, and that there's no one else I'd rather spend the night of my 29th birthday with."

Her proclamation is followed by gentle laughter from the people surrounding her, and as Ava takes in the faces, noting the ones she recognises and memorising the ones she doesn’t, she doesn’t fail to notice that the detective’s gaze remains on her, as it has been for nearly the entire night.

It's almost maddening. The detective is always driving her to distraction - it's almost as if it was a part of her very design, the soft looks meant just for her, almost hidden beneath lowered lashes, the subtle curve of her lips as she tries to smother a smile.

It's the same look she's giving her now as she turns to address the crowd, raising both of the glasses in her hands.

"To many more years with excellent company!"

A chorus of "hear hear"s echo her statement as she tips back one of her drinks, finishing it in one, and Felix has to help her down, narrowly avoiding tripping over her own feet as she reclaims her seat at the head of the table, her inflatable crown askew on the golden halo of her hair.

It’s a ridiculous scene: the party, the _outfit,_ but it’s a good one, and, as she was forced to admit earlier - well earned. The last few months have been filled with threat and danger behind every turn, and a "night out", as Felix so gleefully termed it, has been long overdue. 

And as reluctant as Ava usually is to engage in activities such as these, she’s glad she did - if only to see the way it lights up the detective’s face, the brilliance of her smile as she looks around at the people she knows and loves.

( _Loves._ Her heart shudders within her chest at the thought, and she quashes it, burying it down deep - it’s not for her to comment or know.)

When the festivities of the night come to a close and Ava volunteers to take her home, and what’s left of the party - the rest of their unit and Tina, still somewhat inebriated and leaning heavily on Felix’s arm - don’t raise any objections, although from the look in the younger vampire’s face, she knows she’ll be hearing his opinion on the offer later.

Natalie catches her eye then, her expression warm and affectionate as she offers her a smile. “We’ll meet you at the Warehouse.”

Her soft hand in hers and an arm used to brace her elbow as the detective wobbles on her spindly stilettos that she’d _insisted_ on wearing for the night, they make their way out of the bar together.

\--

It’s a beautiful evening, and not nearly as cold outside as it should be this late in September, the cool evening air providing a welcome relief to the stifling humidity of the bar. The landscape around them is brimming with the warm colours of autumn, the crunch of fallen leaves underfoot marking their steps as they make their way through the sleeping town.

Walking the detective home is an exercise in patience. It’s not because the detective is acting out, far from it - she’s considerate, almost to the point of absurdity, and Ava has to hush her to stop her from apologising for nearly every word that comes out of her mouth.

No, Ava has learned that Elizabeth is - soft when she drinks. Soft with her emotions and gestures, even more expressive than she usually is - and she always seems to be touching her. 

A brush of a hand, the sweep of her body heat as she leans in closer, the whisper of her breath against her neck as she murmurs nonsense into her ear. (“Look at that _cat_ , Ava!” “I see it.” “...And?” “It’s a _cat._ ”)

(The heat of those touches linger on her skin, and it’s another distraction, another _test_.)

When the detective had paused at the threshold of her apartment and kissed her, looping her arms around her neck, passionate and without reservation, Ava should have been expecting it.

She’d read the signals long before they reached the long hallway leading to the detective’s apartment, and had been prepared to make her excuses to leave - but now, in this moment, she finds she doesn’t want to.

And she can't say she regrets it.

Elizabeth kisses like she lives, whole heartedly and without reserve, and for a moment, Ava loses herself in the softness of her lips, the low sounds she makes when the kiss deepens, her fingers tangling in her hair. She tastes like peppermint and chocolate, with an aftertaste of cream and rum from the milkshakes she'd been sharing with Officer Poname, and it’s a taste she will crave for days after this.

Elizabeth is addictive and Ava can't resist, barely aware of her own movements as her hands raise to cup her cheeks, thumbs smoothing over the gentle curve of her cheekbones.

It's Elizabeth that breaks away first with a shaky breath, her fingers loosening their grip on her hair as she pulls back, her cheeks flushed. There's a lopsided grin on her face, her eyes glittering in the dim light of the narrow hallway.

"Goodnight, Ava."

She stumbles inside, the door clicking shut behind her, and Ava waits, listening for the click of the lock that follows, the erratic pattern of her steps as she makes her way across the small apartment to her bedroom, before she tumbles into bed with a gentle sigh. 

Ava stays there long after she hears her shallow breaths ease into the natural cadence of sleep, her heart beating a loud, overpowering rhythm in her chest, her cheeks flushed, lips tingling - and it's only when she gets a notification, her phone vibrating in her jacket pocket, that she can break away.

The message is from Felix, dictated by Natalie from the tone:

_Did you both make it back alright? We are back at the warehouse._

Taking a breath, and then another, she takes a step back from the door, falling back against the opposite wall. Her hands are trembling as she grips her phone, but with another breath they settle enough that she can tap out a response.

_Everything is fine. I’ll be there soon._

Her thumb hovers over the send button. _Fine_ . She is - _fine_. More than.

There's a small pocket of warmth growing inside her chest, and she allows herself the small smile that curls up her lips as she slips her phone back into her pocket, turning to walk down the hall. 

The smile stays long after she returns to the warehouse, almost sparking a comment from Felix before Nat’s gentle hand on his shoulder persuades him otherwise.

(She’s still thinking about that moment, the heat of her beneath her hands, as she makes her patrols later that night, and if her route takes her by the detective’s window once, twice, three times - who else was to know?)

\--

The next day, Ava finds herself outside of the detective's apartment with a delivery from Hayley's bakery: large coffee (black, no sugar), and a vanilla danish, the overpowering sweetness of the pastry enough to make her wrinkle her nose in disgust.

She’s hesitating, the pastry bag and coffee balanced in one hand, the other outstretched to knock against the wood, but not yet making contact. It’s unlike her, this uncertainty, and she won’t stand for it - giving herself a mental shake, she finishes the movement, reaching out to rap on the brightly coloured door.

Her soft knock is greeted by a long groan from across the apartment, followed by a voice, soft and hoarse from sleep, and her heart thumps, once, inside of her chest. "Coming."

A handful of steps and a fumbling of locks later, Elizabeth stands in the doorway, sleep rumpled, blinking blearily in the sunlight that streams from the windows in the hall. 

She looks as hungover as she rightfully deserves with pale shadows beneath her eyes, her hair piled messily on top of her head, but still her eyes light up at the sight of her, her smile a brilliant thing that makes Ava’s breath catch in her chest.

(She'd be beautiful dressed in rags and covered in muck, a small part of her notes, and it’s a part of her that’s become a lot more vocal these last few weeks, ever since the moment they’d shared at the carnival.)

"Ava! It’s good to see you." She steps back to let her in, her smile widening as she gestures at the breakfast items in her hands. Her voice is soft and teasing as she continues, "Please tell me those are for me?"

Her heart is hammering in her chest as she follows the detective into her apartment, and she can't help the way her eyes trace her movements as she rounds the kitchen island, settling onto a stool as Ava places the coffee and pastry on the counter in front of her.

The detective wastes no time digging into the bag and retrieving the danish, her eyes sliding shut in content bliss as she takes a bite.

"Mmmm. What did I ever do to deserve you?"

Ava's heart thuds once, twice, heavy against her ribs at the detective's low moan, her grip on the counter tightening as she takes a breath, before she forces herself to look away. There's heat on cheeks, she can feel it, and she clears her throat to distract herself, keeping her eyes averted as she releases her grip on the counter, tangling her hands in front of her.

Deciding not to reply to the last statement, she asks a question of her own instead. "How are you feeling?"

Elizabeth opens an eye, lashes lowered over the beautiful pale green of her iris as she gives her a look that sparkles with amusement. "Like warmed up shit, if you'll pardon my french."

She takes another bite of the pastry, humming contentedly and sending a shower of crumbs over the counter, before she leans forward, amusement fading as her expression settles into something more serious.

She brandishes the pastry, gesturing towards Ava. "Now, about last night."

Ava's heart lurches in her chest, and her hands tighten in their grip, her bones creaking. She can barely hear the rest of the detective's sentence over the thunderous pace of her heart.

"...home? As I likely owe them an apology."

Her heart stutters in her chest and she blinks, refocusing on the detective. "...sorry, what was that?"

Elizabeth lets out a soft, self-deprecating laugh, running her fingers through her hair, and her cheeks are flushed with- what smells like embarrassment. "Ah, I asked - who took me home last night? As I probably owe them an apology."

"I..." For possibly the first time in her life, Ava finds herself completely lost for words. "You don't remember what happened last night?"

"I remember… most things until we left the bar." She gives a small grin, her expression sheepish. "Then it's, uh, black. It happens sometimes, I have a bad reaction to alcohol..."

Ava can barely hear the rest of what she says over the sound of her heart beat, the muted roar of her blood as it rushes in her ears, and she takes in a long breath, and then another.

A flicker of concern crosses the detective’s soft features, and she reaches out to her, her delicate brow furrowed. "Ava-?"

Ava pulls back just before her hand reaches her own, the ghost of her touch against her palm as she draws away from the counter. "I took you home last night."

The detective’s eyes widen, her hands still outstretched across the table as her blush deepens, and she bites her lip. "Oh."

Ava can't help the way her eyes are drawn to her mouth with the movement, lingering there for one long, heart-stopping moment before she swallows and looks away. It's with gritted teeth that she turns away fully, focusing instead on the door. "It was fine. You were fine."

If she says it enough, then it will become true - this is something she has learned about herself over the years. She is resilient, and these emotions, these _feelings_ , will pass.

There's a soft rustle of movement, and then Elizabeth is in front of her, her brow furrowed with confusion and annoyance, her cheeks flushed with it. She's still biting her lip, and all Ava can think about is how soft it felt against her own, the bittersweet combination of chocolate and mint.

"I can tell when you're lying. What happened, Ava?"

 _"Nothing."_ The word comes out sharper than she intended, and a part of her aches at the flicker of hurt that flashes across the detective’s features, and that is enough, she decides. 

She turns to leave. "Goodbye, detective."

“Ava, wait-”

She reaches out to stop her, and Ava steps to the side, taking advantage of her longer stride to quickly navigate the length of her apartment, almost reaching the door before the detective calls out to her again.

“Goddamn it- _Ava!”_

Her voice cracks on her name, and Ava looks back to see that she is - crying, or trying not to: her eyes are red and hot, tears threatening to spill down her cheeks even as she swipes at them angrily - and even in this, she is honest and without restraint. 

Her cheeks are flushed with it, frustration and anger but also - a sharp taste at the back of her tongue, the taste of _fear._

“You have to _talk_ to me, you can’t just -”

She falls back, turning to lean on the counter as she swipes her sleeves angrily across her cheeks, and Ava wants nothing more than to reach out and still the movement - to take hold of her hand and bring her in close. To run the pad of her thumb along the fine bones of her wrist and feel the fluttering beat of her pulse there. 

(She wants all this and more with a sudden, all-consuming thrum of need that swells in her chest, constricting her breath - and she pushes the feeling down, burying it deep.)

“Ava.”

Elizabeth has regained enough of her composure to continue, and she meets her gaze and the steely strength that lies beneath it, brilliant and sharp, even now. 

“If I did something, you need - you need to tell me. I need to know. I can’t - I won’t be able to live with it, thinking I hurt you.”

 _Hurt you._ Nothing could be further from the truth, and she cannot leave her here, believing such a lie. “You didn’t hurt me.”

Elizabeth pauses, waiting for a long, drawn out moment for Ava to continue. When she doesn’t, she lets out a choked laugh that sounds as if it pains her, glancing away again.

“Then what happened, Ava? What happened to make you - look at me like that, as if I’d - as if I’d just confessed to murdering your pet cat?” 

_Again with the-_ She cuts off the thought, glancing towards the door, and Elizabeth takes another step, making her intentions clear - if she moves to leave, she will be stopped. _“Ava.”_

There’s no running from this. The thought tightens her chest, and her hand shakes as she runs her hand through her hair, catching on the tight curl of her bun - with a muted growl, she yanks out the tie, closing her eyes as she tangles her fingers within the strands. 

Her heart is beating a sudden, frantic rhythm inside of her chest, but she is no coward.

Steeling herself, she puts it as plainly as she can. “You kissed me.”

“I… _what?_ ”

She grits her teeth and prepares herself to repeat it. “I said-”

“Sorry, I heard, I just…” Her expression creases, her dark eyes clouding before she looks away, wrapping her arms around her midsection. She looks - fragile, somehow, as if she’s trying to hold herself together. “I… I didn’t realise it was - that it would be…”

She squeezes her eyes shut, the flush in her cheeks rising as another wave of tears spill down her cheeks, and Ava can’t - she steps forward, wanting to narrow the distance between them, but unable to close it completely. Her hands twitch at her sides, and it takes everything within her to stop herself from reaching out.

Instead, she uses her name - a name she has long since memorized the shape of, even though it rarely passes her own lips. _“Elizabeth.”_

“I’m sorry Ava, I didn’t mean - I know you don’t want -” she cuts herself off again, swallowing heavily, and she’s shaking, Ava can see the tremor in her hands, her shoulders as she buries her face between her hands.

“Don’t presume to know what I want.” The words come out of her, unbidden, and the detective looks up, green eyes glassy as they meet hers. She’s beautiful, even like this, and then she’s moving, finally, closing the distance between them.

She takes Elizabeth's face between her hands, watching for any indication that her touch is unwanted, a small part of her easing when she leans into the touch.

The words escape her, quietly. “I always want you.”

She should leave now, before this goes any further - but she can't bring herself to turn away. She's soft and precious between her hands, a life barely lived, and Ava shouldn't be doing this, shouldn't be putting her at risk like this, but she is. 

There's no turning back now (she thinks she passed that point a long time ago).

The detective reaches up to cover Ava’s hands with her own, and she can feel the soft rhythm of her pulse at her wrist, her hands soft and delicate and oh so very human - she can’t help the sigh that escapes her at the touch.

"You need to mean that. If you say it, you need to mean it.” 

Her voice is barely more than a whisper and when Ava meets her gaze and her eyes are fierce with emotion, red rimmed and beautiful, and she - she wants so much, she thinks it will break her. 

(but she will not leave her with a lie.) "I mean it."

When Elizabeth kisses her again, she doesn’t taste like anything except herself, and she kisses with a hunger that echoes the one burning within her own chest, and Ava can’t hold herself back, doesn’t want to - matching her stroke for stroke as she sinks her hands into the soft curls of her hair. 

She finds herself unmoored, lost in her as soft hands move to her shoulders, her neck, as she presses herself closer until they’re flush, chest-to-knee, the kiss deepening as they chase more, _more_ \- 

Elizabeth breaks away from the kiss first, a soft gasp for breath, and Ava chases her mouth, trailing kisses along her cheeks until she laughs and pushes her away.

She doesn't go far, lingering to capture her lips one last time, softer this time, memorising the shape of them, the soft yield of them against her own.

When she finally pulls away, her eyes are gleaming, brilliant in the early morning light. “Will you stay?”

“If you wish it.” She’d stay forever at her side, if she would allow it.

She smiles then, and she is beautiful - her cheeks flushed, lips kiss swollen, and Ava can’t help but kiss her again - her cheek, her jaw, slipping down towards her neck before she pulls away with another bright, happy laugh. 

“Stop it, I’m _gross -_ I'm going to take a shower!” Stepping back, she goes to turn towards the bathroom, before - she pauses.

Meeting Ava’s gaze again, her teeth worrying her lower lip, she asks, “Would you care to join me?”

She doesn’t need to think about it. _“Yes.”_


	2. wild winters, warm coffee (elizabeth)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ava invites the detective on a breakfast date.
> 
> \--
> 
> That’s right: they’re trying this. They’re trying _normal_ , or at least, as normal as they can be.
> 
> She bites her lip at the thought, stifling a laugh. What a pair they make.
> 
> Herself, a supernatural magnet cursed with magical battery blood that has made her the most desirable snack in creation; and Ava, beautiful and immortal, blessed with nine centuries of knowledge and wisdom, which really, should make her old enough to know better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kisses shared under an umbrella/awning. elizabeth and ava.
> 
> This is set a few weeks after the first story, changing to Elizabeth's perspective, and it very, _very_ soft.

It starts with breakfast, or at least that's what she will say later, when asked about it. 

But in reality, it starts with a cold, blustery morning, the chill sharp enough to pink both hers and Ava’s cheeks as they walk the short distance down the main street to Hayley’s. The wind is vicious as it pulls at their wool layers, whipping their scarves around their faces, and Elizabeth is breathless and more than a little flushed, when they arrive at their destination, very much grateful for the welcoming warmth of the bakery.

The familiar scents of pastry and freshly brewed coffee provide a welcome relief, chasing the chill from her bones. Ava is close at her back, having insisted on opening the door, her gaze steady and considering as she scans the room while Hayley bustles over with a smile and shows them to a free table.

After placing their orders, they fall into a comfortable silence, surrounded by the soft murmur of conversation, the gentle clink of silverware, and she - she’s not sure what to say.

It’s the first morning they've shared together like this since - well, since the morning when they'd finally addressed that there was something between them. It’s not often that they manage to find time to spend time alone, away from the others; not between her work and Ava’s patrols, and the continued research sessions in Nat’s library.

(Sometimes - sometimes she still thinks about that morning, and her cheeks grow warm at the memory. Moments shared under heated steam and rushing water; a precious, stolen hour before duty and responsibility had separated them once more.)

A lot has changed since then, but at the same time, nothing at all. She's not sure why she thought it would. There are still too many things left unsaid, unasked, lingering between them.

"Elizabeth." The gentle use of her name brings her back to the present, to where Ava is watching her, hands clasped in front of her, her clear gaze steady over her untouched cappuccino and croissant.

That’s right: they’re trying this. They’re trying _normal_ , or at least, as normal as they can be.

She bites her lip at the thought, stifling a laugh. What a _pair_ they make.

Herself, a supernatural magnet cursed with magical battery blood that has made her the most desirable snack in creation; and Ava, beautiful and immortal, blessed with nine centuries of knowledge and wisdom, which really, should make her old enough to know better.

“What do you see in me?”

She doesn’t mean to voice the thought, but there’s no taking it back once it’s out there. It’s something that’s been on her mind lately, the question of the draw between them, this attraction - which, she can understand from her _own_ perspective.

Gnawing on her lower lip, she watches as Ava’s brow furrows, shifting in her seat, before she reaches out to the cappuccino she’d had no intention of drinking, her nose wrinkling slightly at the bitter smell of espresso.

“I don’t know what you mean.”

She raises a brow in response, reaching out to pick up her own coffee - black, no sugar. The heat from the ceramic mug chases away the chill from her fingers. It’s not a complicated question. “You don’t have to answer, if you don’t want to.”

“I want to.” She says, immediately, glancing up in a flash of emerald, and Elizabeth pauses where she was raising the cup to her lips, catching her gaze. “It’s just… the manner of the reply.”

She pauses, her lips twisting as she looks down at her hands, and Elizabeth takes a warm mouthful of coffee, giving her the space she needs to collect her thoughts.

“You remind me of my past.” 

Elizabeth’s breath catches, and she looks up to catch Ava’s gaze, but she’s still looking away, narrowed eyes focused on the cup in front of her, the patterns made in the foam with sugar and cocoa, as if they held the answers she was looking for. 

Her voice is gentle when she continues, just audible above the ambient rumble of conversation around them.

“I look at you, and I see things that I thought I’d lost forever.”

“Ava,” she whispers, watching as she smiles at her name, a soft, broken thing that makes her heart tremble inside her chest. Elizabeth reaches out across the table, hand out, palm up: a request. 

Ava’s touch is light when she settles her hand in hers, warm and heated as brilliant emerald meets her gaze. 

“You’re someone I care for deeply. More deeply than you know.”

Elizabeth raises their joined hands until she can press a kiss against her knuckles, soft skin warm against her mouth, matched by the warmth she glimpses in the green depths of Ava’s eyes as she lowers their hands back onto the table.

There’s a long moment of silence, their hands clasped loosely on the table before them, before Ava speaks again. “What do you see in me?”

 _A monster,_ Ava had referred to herself before - something lethal, dangerous. Not to be touched, or known. 

She couldn’t have been more wrong. Throughout the time Elizabeth has known her, Ava has always been - good. Loyal, trustworthy, moral, _true._

She squeezes the hand in her grip, giving her a soft smile as she thinks about the question. 

“I see strength, and bravery. I see passion and love - for the others, for strangers, for _life_.”

There is so much more she wants to say. About how she loves that Ava _cares_ , even when she doesn’t have to; that she cares despite the fact it has been over nine hundred years since she had last drawn a breath and needed it, her personal history and human legacy lost to the ravages of time. 

How the way she makes her feel can barely be put into words. More than a feeling: a connection, and the strength of it surpasses anything she’s ever felt before.

She doesn’t think Ava’s ready for all that, though. Not quite yet.

“I see someone more human than anyone I’ve ever met.” She grins at the flat look Ava gives her, squeezing her hand again before she bites her lip, hesitating before continuing. “Someone I _also_ care for deeply.”

Ava’s hand moves to her wrist, long fingers enclosing it gently, her fingertips resting against her pulse, her touch light as her thumb circles her wrist bone. Her eyes are soft under the thick curl of her lashes, a gentle smile curving her lips, and Elizabeth has to take a breath, a flush warming her cheeks under that gaze.

“I am lucky to have met you,” she admits, quietly, as if she can’t quite believe it herself, and Elizabeth’s smile softens. Reaching out with her other hand, she encloses her hand within both of hers.

“And I you.”

\--

The rest of breakfast is easier after that, the ice broken, allowing for more ready conversation. She learns, much to her delight, that Ava has a sense of humour after all - something she had long suspected, but hadn’t managed to definitively prove before.

(“But you _never_ laugh at my jokes.” “I’d hardly call _puns_ humour.”)

After they finish the pastries - Ava _does_ eat hers in the end, albeit slowly, each bite delicate - they make preparations to leave together, eventually coming to a stop beneath the cafe awning. 

Outside, the blustery winds have turned into rain, and she regrets the decision to leave behind her car - and her _umbrella_ , although looking at the state of things, she doubts that it would have done her much good.

Ava shares her thoughts, a frown on her lips as her eyes flicker across the scene, fingers tapping in agitation against the curved wooden handle of the walking umbrella at her side.

“We could make a run for it? There are enough awnings along the street - I’m sure we can escape the worst of it.”

“Or we could take a moment.”

There’s a soft touch against her arm, and she glances down to see Ava’s hand at her wrist.

When she looks up again, Ava’s eyes are soft on hers, gentle in a way Elizabeth doesn’t know how to deal with, her breath catching in her chest. Tugging her forwards, Ava leans down and presses her lips against hers.

The kiss is slow at first, soft lips and warm breath - an answer to her question from earlier, if anything. It doesn’t take long for those lips to firm against hers though, Ava’s hand rising to clutch at the nape of her neck, pulling her in closer as her fingers slip into her hair, tangling amidst the messy curls.

It steals the breath from her lungs, makes her sway on the spot, fingers gripped tight to the outside of Ava's peacoat, and she feels as if she’s floating, lost somewhere amongst the clouds.

When they finally break for air, she’s breathless, laughing as she asks, "What was that for?"

"For today.” She smiles. “For what you mean to me. Everything."

\--

All in all, it’s a good morning. A good breakfast.

Their first _date_ , a treacherous part of her whispers, although those aren’t the words Ava used, exactly, and a smile curls up the corners of her mouth at the thought. It’s a step forward, at least.

**Author's Note:**

> There is uh, a little sequel to this planned (re: shower plans)!
> 
> Kudos & comments greatly appreciated, find more of Elizabeth on her tag on tumblr, [here.](https://ejunkiet.tumblr.com/tagged/detective%20elizabeth%20quail)


End file.
